Hilarious
by toadstoolcouch
Summary: The Joker kidnaps a Mary Sue for a delightful time of torture and humiliation.  Warning:  Extreme


"Ya, Mom, I know," said the girl who rushed, frowning, from the club's crowded line. Although 20 years old, the girl, Janet, still lived with her mom. She continued to reassure her mom that she'd be home before dawn as she impatiently passed the parking lot. It was completely filled, forcing her to park several blocks down in the closest space without a meter.

She shook her head as she hung up, and put her phone away. Her grumbles soon fell silent behind a hand reaching out from the dark alley beside her. A pinch at her nape knocked her out.

&&&&&&&&&

Sticky from sleep, Janet's eyes fumbled for clarity in that dark place. Vague, black shapes loomed before and beside her. The cold sweeping her skin told her she was naked, and with a sick horror she found she was also bound. Her arms were straight at her sides and legs spread. The metal shackles on her ankles and wrists were tight and chafing.

She would have thought herself lying down if she couldn't see a thin line of light that gave away the door in front of her. She burst into a panic suddenly, as if all this finally made sense to her. Tears vomited from her wide eyes and frantic gasps clattered in her ribs. Even if she had thought it a good idea to scream, she'd never have mustered the breath.

She froze when dark shapes appeared against the crack of light. She heard talking, and then a sudden, violent laughter that made her heart slam. The door opened. The lights went on in a blinding flood. Even with her eyes seared and soggy, she could still recognize the casually approaching man as the Joker. She screamed; more out of despair than for help, and felt a humiliating warmth sprinkle down her thighs.

The Joker flashed a mock conceited grin. "I get that a lot."

Janet stared, a sense of wonder intermingled with her terror. Just like anyone else in Gotham City, she had seen the Joker in various forms: on TV, in magazines, on the internet. He had so many different looks, with varying degrees of realistic and cartoony effects, but none of them came close to capturing the true essence before her. The shadows gave his ice-white face a haunting depth; his light, sweet cologne complemented his barely perceptible natural musk. Even the soft sound of his clothes rustling and the detail of each dark green strand of hair screamed to Janet his eerie realness. She felt stupid for focusing on such an obvious and useless fact, but still she couldn't help but feel star struck.

The Joker walked up close and crossed his arms. He put a hand against his chin and titled his head, regarding Janet piercingly. Janet's eyes began to tremble with fresh tears. She whimpered softly. He just stared at her, rolling his eyes up and down for an agonizing minute.

Finally he said, "You've lost weight."

Janet spluttered, "What?"

The Joker took off his glove and slid a finger down her chest, while a low chuckle bristled through his scythe-like grin. Janet's pulse quickened as he cupped her crotch with his hand. The heat of his hand at first awoke her senses and she suffered a sharp tingle. But she held back and squeezed shut her eyes. She held her breath as he slowly stroked her clit. She finally let out her breath in a frantic yelp as the sensation quickly grew from warm and sweet to stabbingly intense. Each time he rubbed the bulb so roughly, she yelped and writhed. With those goons standing by watching and leering, she began to sob from how helpless she felt. So alone. Such a victim.

"What a marvelous plaything you'll be!" The Joker declared as he plunged a finger up inside her.

She yelled out, mostly from shock.

"Well, you're tighter than I'm used to." He looked over at his henchmen, sharing a high school macho laugh. "Wonderful."

He stepped in closer, so his body pressed against hers. His fabric felt cool and soft against her skin, and his heartbeat knocked into her rib cage. His smell filled her nose; the smell of a man. The hint of arousal stirring within her scared her. She lifted her eyes, now huge and ripping, into his. A hard, dark color, they stared back like mirrors. Or shadows. She searched them for anything human as he pierced her with another finger. His freshly painted lips were set in a satisfied curve, and as he pressed a third finger against the others, searching for a way in, they slowly parted and he softly, subtly, widened them.

Janet felt the third finger at the flesh around her clogged opening as it wormed its way in. She tensed and closed up, a whine slipping from gritted teeth. She heard his breathing echo brutally in her ear as he forced it in.

She snapped her eyes open and pressed her head back, gasping raggedly. She felt like he had sliced her with his fingernail, and her involuntary clenching muscles only magnified the pain.

He held her with his other hand at her waist, his fingers gently caressing as his teeth glinted from his gradually widening smile. His eyes widened. They released a savage hold over Janet's, as he forced another finger inside. She shook with pain. Her hands grew white at the ends of the strained shackles.

Her lips quivered, and she struggled to breath. She stared into the Joker's eyes and whined, "Please! Please stop!" The last of her sentence shattered into panicked sobs.

The Joker's grip on her waist tightened. He chuckled a deep and sonorous sound and said, "Beg."

So she did. Her voice grew louder and more desperate when he moved the tip of his thumb along the side of his fingers. He hissed, "Beg for me."

As he slipped the first knuckle of his thumb inside, she shrieked, her body twisting, sweat popping from her pores. Her face was bright red and soaked as she blubbered nonsensical words.

She could feel that it seemed the Joker would not be able to get his entire fist inside. At the last thumb knuckle, he paused and Janet dared to open her eyes. She looked up at him, begging once again with her eyes and quivering lips.

She realized, from his cruel, stone eyes that her begging was useless. She was completely at his mercy. This heart sinking feeling of powerlessness was alien to her, but at once she understood it. She knew she had met her murderer. There was an odd peace to that thought.

The Joker seemed to have read her mind at that moment. He grinned slyly and pushed his fingers through her hair. He sucked in her breath and her scream as he pushed his hand steadily up. Most people would have hesitated, afraid of causing damage. But it was nothing for the Joker to plunge his hand wrist deep into the girl, and even clench his fist inside. They gazed into each other's eyes with such intensity and strength, Janet's screams died down to a subdued crying and then to nothing at all; just her fierce pain thumping with her pulse, his shallow breath and hers.

He lurched his hand out, and Janet slumped as much as she could, letting out a fatigued bellow. Looking down at her with a condescending expression, he lifted his hand and a goon immediately gave him a towel. He continued to look at her, and when she looked up, she was shocked to see something like disgust on his face. Shame overcame her, and she threw her head back down. It seemed too quiet to cry, so she stayed silent. Waiting.

When a lackey undid her shackles, she just fell. No one tried to stop her or help her up. She wanted so bad to just stay there and curl up into a ball, but a kick to her side brought her to her knees.

"Come on, darling," said the Joker, stooping to give her a hand. She took it and stumbled, falling into his arms. He lifted her and smiled into her face. This time the smile seemed almost sweet, and it made her feel ever the more flustered. As they left the room, she studied his face and noticed that his eyebrows weren't as black as they seemed from afar, but were actually just darker than his hair. A stray hair that he must have missed right below one brow looked bright against the white skin. Patches of skin that seemed fluffier than others betrayed the fact that he was wearing white powder on his face. And was that eyeliner? She realized with a slightly gaping mouth that maybe her captor had wanted to dress up for the occasion. She mentally shook her head, deciding that he was insane and that was all there was to it, rather than entertain the thought further.

They had gone down a hall and were now in what seemed to be a huge, abandoned warehouse. Most of anything that was in there before was gone, or covered with sheets. A table covered with papers and a computer, a couch in front of a TV, a kitchen table, some appliances. Along the walls were long cords that connected with each other and the various appliances via extension cables and boxes. It all looked just so disjointed, like someone was trying desperately to make a cozy home in a giant room of stone and steel. With no walls inside to block off rooms, the place was just a huge, sweeping area that Janet felt lost in.

The Joker tossed Janet on the floor. When she looked up, she saw his usual huge smile, which seemed out of place after such a thuggish act. She bent her knees towards her chest as the Joker walked closer to her.

"Harley!" he yelled abruptly, now looming above Janet's head. Very soon after the woman appeared, skipping from an alcove by the kitchen. She danced to the Joker's side, completely ignoring the girl on the floor, and batted her eyelashes at him. "I want you to meet you new...sister," he said, gesturing to Janet and holding Harley's shoulder. He said that last word like he wished he had a better one.

Immediately Harley stiffened, and turned her head in a perfunctory manner. Her eyes smoldered with white hot rage, nostrils flaring. And yet this display only lasted barely a second, and was carefully sheltered from the Joker's view. When she turned back, she flung her arms around his shoulders and spattered loud kisses on his neck, a gesture to which he seemed to only feel annoyance. As he brushed her off his body, he knelt to beam at Janet and offer his hand. Hers shakily reached for it, and she let the Joker pull her up, all the while darting her gaze back and forth from the two hovering over her. The Joker snapped Janet into his arms with one swift move and led her towards the kitchen.

"Really, you'll feel quiet at home here," he tittered as he held her by the shoulders with his left arm, and played with her hair with the right. "Please forgive the condition of my estate," he interrupted himself with some accidental giggles, "As we are often forced to uproot." He pulled her face to look at him. "And also, please, my dear, don't think me a rude host for not providing a better wardrobe, but I personally feel anything fancier would be inappropriate, considering your status." His eyes darkened and his lips stretched. "Nothing personal. I am merely a slave to social convention."

She knew he was referring to her status in his household; that among him and Harley and his employees, she couldn't be any more than a dog. If that. Her eyes brimmed up even as she fought for control, and she whined, "Are you...are you going to let me go after this?"

By that time they had reached the kitchen, and the Joker lifted Janet to sit her on the table. He put a hand on each side of her hips and leaned in. Her body cringed but her eyes demanded her answer, hoping. She jumped slightly when he put a hand on her shoulders, but felt a tiny surge of relief at the Joker's soft expression. His whole being suddenly seemed so warm; for a moment he appeared human.

"Janet, darling," he began in a kindly tone. "I chose you to fulfill a very special place in my life. After so much stress and work and the same olds, you will give me the chance to really live again." He began to grow passionate, gesturing often to his heart. Janet stared at him, entirely confused, wondering if she should take all this as a no, but a promise that she may live.

When he gently laid his hand on her cheek and burned through her a look of confident intensity, she imagined that maybe he was proposing to her, and she became light headed. When he ran his fingers through her hair, she pressed her head against his hand ever so slightly. She barely breathed as their gazes locked.

"You will do so much for this poor old heart," he continued, and his voice sounded earnest, and soft, almost a whisper. She could no longer deny to herself that she was savagely attracted to him, no matter what had happened. A powerful longing surfaced in her own heart at the Joker's words, and her weary brain let this pass.

From the corner of her eye she saw Harley stand, her hands behind her back. Even though all Janet could see was a glimpse of an outline, it was still obvious to her that Harley was making herself look quiet and demure, patiently waiting for the Joker to return his attention to her. Cruelty blazed from her fixed stare, her presence like tendrils of hate, but Janet could only see the Joker's sincere, melting warmth.

"What do you need me to do?" Janet asked, smally. She felt her hand fall into his.

"I just need you to survive," he said, stroking her face.

Janet paused. "What?" she asked at last, suddenly gulping at her own stupidity, while the Joker gazed on, unchanging.

In fact he pulled her in for a warm hug as he continued, "Just don't die, Janet. Be a good and brave little girl and try to last as long as you can." He held her at arms' length. "When I first saw you at your school prom I just knew you were the pet for me. Just something about the way you looked that night that made me dream of ripping you to pieces every night since."

Janet's face contorted and she violently writhed against the Joker's firm hold. "You're sick! Sick!" she screamed in his face, kicking, twisting, hyperventilating. All the commotion made her fall off the table. She wheezed from the painful impact, but was up in a breath, scrambling as far away as she could, until her head hit against Harley's legs. She looked up to meet the woman's cold gaze.

Behind her, the Joker closed his eyes, smiling a warm smile. "Killing for the mere sake of survival is just so drab. It's been far too long since I've been able to just relax and take my time." He glanced away, looking ecstatic. "To just...have fun with it!"

Janet's shoulders crumpled, and she began to shake as she looked up at him. "O my God," she whimpered in a broken voice, struggling against the cold tiles.

Harley was by this time at the Joker's side, her hands clasped behind her back. Looking up at him with big eyes, she asked sweetly, "Shouldn't she be on a leash, Puddin'?"

He was still gazing at Janet with the look of a lover on his face. "Hmm? Hmm. Yes, I suppose so." He ruffled Janet's hair. To Harley, "Get the stuff."

She cried with glee and scampered away. She came back with thin chains, and one of her hands closed. The Joker reached down to pick Janet up. Even as she fought him, writhing and kicking, he grabbed her like she were a doll and slumped her on the table. Then he pushed her on her back and scooted her body up along the table so no part of her was dangling off. Next to her head he dumped the contents of Harley's hands. He looked down on Janet with a more distanced expression, regarding her intently as he said, "I'd highly suggest you stay still."

"What..." Janet hissed, twisting to watch him hold one of her breasts down, his hand cupping right below her areola. With his other hand he brought to her breasts a small device. When Janet recognized it, she screeched and struggled, just as the Joker had it positioned on her nipple. Her nipple tore free from the needle with her fierce movements. As blood sputtered all over her breast and the table and the Joker's hands, he shook his head and made disapproving noises. "What did I tell you? You ruined it." Janet answered with a gurgled scream, spit bubbling at her lips. He shrugged and slammed her shoulder by her injured breast down and reached across her chest for the other one. "I'd like to get this one done right," he said as he pulled the skin by the nipple tight. She knew she couldn't stop this, and feared she'd react the same way. She sobbed with shallow breaths as she struggled to keep herself still. Her fists shook taut at her sides, and she moved her head away and closed her eyes.

At this the Joker laughed and said, "You're gonna miss it! Harley."

Harley sneered at the girl and forced her head to face her breast, pulling her eyelids open. There was a short, sharp yelp and then a bellow as the Joker pierced her nipple. He pulled it against the walls of the hole he had made, widening it, and then pulled the needle out. While Janet fought against Harley's hands, he inserted a thick ring and secured the clasp.

After attaching one end of a thin chain to the ring, he stood back, holding his chin. "I'm not sure...Ah!" He grinned widely and moved down to Janet's feet. "Make sure she doesn't fuck this up." Harley grinned and leaned over Janet's head to hold down her shoulders. Her breasts scraped against Janet's lips. She turned her head. A strong smell emanated from Harley; something like a splash of perfume, tons of powder, and something a bit like paint.

The Joker opened Janet's legs, telling her again to stay still. She felt him roughly dig into the folds of her vulva, fingers striking her clit randomly. Her moans were ragged, desperate, and her vulva slowly started to glisten. The Joker noticed this and grinned. He rubbed his thumb against her clit for a second and then grasped for a fold of skin just above it. A thick piece that he could pull up and put in the piercer. Harley had to push down harder and snarl into her face, "Hold still, bitch!"

He pressed the needle into that part of her vulva, making a clean, neat hole which he widened. Janet's scream was so harsh, Harley slapped a hand over her mouth, pressing painfully. He replaced the needle with another ring that was meant for her other nipple. The free end of the chain was attached to this ring.

He quickly washed his hands in the sink by the table and then yanked Janet off the table by her elbow. She barely escaped falling on her head, and stumbled against the Joker's body. Her knees buckled and her hands clutched at his clothes as he pulled her up. With a tongue swept smile, he made her stand and then very gently tugged on the chain. The twitches against her wounds made her shriek and stumble forward. He giggled as he led her out of the kitchen, always pulling harder than necessary. Harley walked alongside the Joker, sneaking glances back at Janet's face. Hers was an expression of bitter triumph.

A goon interrupted the gleeful scene, hurrying to the Joker's side. His eyes switched to Janet, widened, then switched back to the Joker, who looked irritated. His big, floppy lips erupted, "Batman's on the news, boss."

The Joker's eyes glistened for a minute and he pushed past his employee to head for the TV just a short distance away. He was pulling Janet along by the chains, almost absent-mindedly, and Harley scampered by his side. His long strides were a nightmare for Janet, who trotted in stumbling, desperate steps. The pain of her piercings alternated from a dull throbbing to sharp intensity as the Joker tugged the chain every time his arm swung away from her.

As he dropped into his chair, he flopped her on the floor at his feet. He frowned at the screen while ads played, and said gruffly, "Get on your hands and knees. Facing away from me. That's right. Come on, lift that bottom up for me. Higher." His voice was systematic, almost like he didn't care. Janet obeyed every command immediately, however. She was too terrified to worry about feeling embarrassed. She shivered and felt her clit twitch and warm, as she imaged the Joker's eyes penetrating her.

The news came back on, and the Joker propped his chin with his forefinger and thumb.

"Continuing our earlier story, the Batman has been unmasked. Earlier today the Caped Crusader was found stumbling down Bob Kane Blvd., limping severely, before he was picked up by an ambulance."

The Joker made hissing sounds from deep in his throat. He exploded, "What is this shit!"

"It's that show," said the goon. "'Bout the B-"

"I don't want to hear your hideous accent butcher that name," the Joker snapped, turning to glare at his henchman. He turned back to the TV, spitting. "Jesus, the shit they put on the news these days. I oughtta find that bastard and pull out his teeth, one by one, for even thinking of impersonating…"

Harley stopped him with a light touch on his shoulder. "Don't get yourself all worked up, Puddin,'" she said, handing him a thin, long, polished stick. "That's what you got her for."

"Why thank you, Harley," the Joker said thoughtfully as he took the cane. He had a glint of approval in his eyes. That was enough for Harley's knees to buckle with excitement.


End file.
